Pure imagination
by silvereyed angel
Summary: Everything is possible, with just a little bit of imagination...


**Drabble about something that came to my mind while watching Willy Wonka and the chocolate factory…  
This is to everybody who has reviewed, alerted of favourited me/my stories…  
you guys are amazing and please keep doing that because you guys make every day, like nick's, better  
don't be offended when I don't reply or respond to anything in the coming days; I have a sleepover at a friends house and she forbid me to take my laptop –sad face-.  
Enjoy my drabble…  
**

**Nick PoV**

Nick walked through the grey streets, on his way back home. He was alone: since Kevin had to go to the dentist (again) because of all the sweets and cookies he ate.  
Joe, of course, was no help since he did not yet have his drivers licence, plus, he was with Stella. Something about a fashion thing Nick hadn't really paid attention to.

His father wasn't home and he wouldn't be for a couple of hours, some meeting about the band he had to attend to. Mom had some tea _slash _photo album party with some old friends. Frankie was at a friends house, probably game-marathoning.

So Nick was all alone, walking home and kicking pebbles out of his path.

The sky was a dull grey and it was slightly raining. A kind of weather that would make anyone more cheerful then Nick gloomy.  
Unfortunately Nick wasn't very cheerful today. Thanks to nightly rehearsals and his sudden inspiration that night, he had slept all through his favourite class, musical history and partly through Math.  
He also had gotten a B in science.

Shortly said, Nick Lucas' day hadn't been that great. Right now he was convinced nothing was really possible today. It was a day for staying in bed, preferably with the curtains closed.

He would come home to an empty house, eat cold dinner before everybody would come home, then Kevin with a sore mouth would go straight to bed. Joe and Stella would go do something together and Mom would be busy getting ice-cream for Kevin.  
Dad would go do something with Frankie, because he was the youngest and Nick would be all alone again.  
He wasn't even in the mood to write songs; go figure. Though something like: _It's raining and it's wet, it's raining and I'm sad. _Came to his mind.

Nick sighed; he really didn't feel like going home. So instead, he took a turn away from the his destination and walked, not really caring where his feet brought him, away from the empty fire-house.

Surprisingly, his feet brought him to a little park he had never seen before, though Frankie or Kevin might have.  
It was a very cute little park and he vaguely recognised it. It was mostly a bare surface. With lot's of wild trees all over the place and weed everywhere.  
He wandered into the little park, nettles stinging his exposed arms and brambles scratching his skin.

Eventually he found a little bench and plumped down. Watching the little swampy lake several feet away from.

Nick closed his eyes and let his tired body rest for the first time that day… God, he really hated today, PE had been a disaster, his hands not being in the condition to climb a stupid rope after that drumming incident with Joe. Plus, why would anyone want to climb a rope?

Even during lunch, his mood had been so gloomy he hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings and had, embarrassing enough, bumped into the lunch-lady. Who was holding a tray full of disgusting looking over-date food.

Nick groaned as he remembered the rant Stella had given him about the expensive clothes that were now ruined, even though he hadn't been able to help it.  
Another sigh, it was almost like that awful day he had to repeat every awful thing that happened to him.  
This day almost tipped that.

"Nick?" A voice suddenly said. Making him jump in surprise.

"Whoa! Macy? What are you…?" he started, staring at the toned, heart shaped face of Macy Misa.

"Hi Nick." She smiled. "What are you doing here?"

He pulled his face into something that by someone with a real creative imagination could be called a smile.

"It can't be bad I hope, since you're smiling." She said.

"I'm not being home." He explained. "because I had one of the worst days ever and nobody's home anyway. Not that this depressing park is helping." He waved around him in explanation.

"I resent that." Macy said, slightly offended. "It's a lovely little park. It's _my _park."

He looked weirdly at the little brunette sitting next to him.

"I came here ever since I was little, I know this place inside out and it is _not _a depressing park."

He looked around, most of the trees dead, merely standing up. Weed and branches all over the place, not to mention the brown swamp.

"Are you going to be mad when I say I disagree?" he asked, not really in the mood for another rant.

"You have always been the cute-serious one." Macy sighed and then walked straight into the bushes that had just scratched me like a group of manicured fans.

"Macy?" he asked, kind of worried about her.

Then she emerged back from the green, her hands wrapped around something, clothes perfectly un-scratched.

She came to sit on the bench again. Holding her closed hands in front of him.

"It's not depressing. When you use your imagination." She said mysteriously. With that, she opened her hands and in it laid a beautiful red flower.

Nick's eyebrows raised in surprise as he examined the beautiful flower.

"Now," Macy said. "Look around you." Wind blowing her hair all around her.  
Nick looked up and his eyes widened at what he saw.

Trees, in full glory surrounded them. All sorts of beautiful red flowers on green grass. The lake was a beautiful colour of soft grey-blue, nothing like the ugly swamp before.

But how?  
He gaped at that suddenly changed sight and back at Macy.  
She smiled. "Everything is possible, Nick. With just a little bit imagination."

Nick's day, suddenly, got a hell of a lot better as he looked back at the little park, suddenly understanding why Macy loved it so much.  
When he looked back, she was gone. That made sense too, somehow.

Nick looked down, to the little red flower.  
He smiled.

~fin


End file.
